


Lost and Found

by Kamirynn



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Karaoke, Kissing, Las Vegas, M/M, Meet-Cute, Relationship(s), polar bear shots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-24 13:25:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18572398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kamirynn/pseuds/Kamirynn
Summary: Patrick is feeling overwhelmed and unsure while on his Bachelor Party. Trying to escape it all - he makes a new friend.ORIn every universe and reality, these two cuties will find each other...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have had such fun writing this Big shout out to @lyonet for being an amazing beta. xx

Their last breakup before the engagement had almost broken him. It had started so simply.

“Patrick!”

“What?”

“You still haven’t told me what you want for dinner!”

“I dunno Rachel, I’m pretty tired – just get whatever you want, OK?”

“Ugh, Patrick! It’s not that hard. It’s just dinner.”

“I don’t know Rachel – I just don’t know alright. Whatever you want is fine.”

“Please just pick something!”

Patrick had sat on the end of their bed in silence, the anxiety and frustration building in him. Maybe if he sat here long enough, she would give up and leave him alone. It always started like this, some mindless fight about nothing, a climax to weeks of niggling unhappiness. He eyed the bed… maybe he could crawl under the covers, clench his eyes and feign sleep until...

Then Rachel’s voice is there again, and any hopes of sleep are gone “PATRICK! I’m starving, what do you want?”

“I just don’t know. I don’t know. I DON’T KNOW WHAT I WANT.”

“You never know what you want!”

Now shaking, all he could manage was a whisper. “I know I don’t want this...”

And the routine had started again, with him throwing the usual essentials into a duffel bag, the usual texts to friends.

 

_I need a place to crash…_

_Rachel?_

_Yeah – I just need some space to think_

                           _Dude. you’ve been thinking for years. sort your shit out._

                           _But obv you can stay here. Bluejays tonight. bring beer._

_***_

The next step in the routine is always guilt.

Logically, he knows that Rachel is a _nice_ girl. She’s smart and funny and comes with him to every home game. They’ve been best friends since high school. She really hasn’t done anything wrong. He can’t work out why he doesn’t love her the way she loves him. It’s him, it must be him. He’s wrong –he’s broken somehow. She doesn’t deserve this. (Remorse) Maybe they are meant to be together (Denial) 

She finds him in the usual bar, clutching the usual beer like a life preserver, holding on to the usual pain.

He looks up into her honest eyes and knows that she really loves him. She deserves so much better than this, so much more.

“Rach, I’m sorry, I just… I needed some space, to think.”

She makes a show of looking around the bar. “Uhuh, and where did that get you?” The sarcasm in her voice is thick, they’ve done this before.

He sniffs at her joke “You’re so great you know. You deserve more, more than what we have, more than this.” He waves his hand inarticulately at himself and his words are slow and slurred and full of conflict.

She raises an eyebrow at him. “You’re drunk.”

“Yeah, yeah I know.”

She sighs, and presses a small kiss to his forehead before she says, _“_ _B_ ut I love you – and mostly I love us. I don’t love _this…” -_ She gestures around the bar “– but I just… I want you to be happy. I want us to be happy. And I’m here for whatever that is, whatever that takes. I just wish you knew what you wanted Pea.”

 The pet name cuts him to the quick. He feels hollow, and suddenly very lonely. She really does love him. She deserves so much more. She’s so lovely – and smart, and funny. Why were they fighting again? The beer buzzes under his skin, fermenting his thoughts. He sees the tears in her eyes and now all he wants is for her not to be in pain. For her to feel safe. For this to be over and for them never to have this conversation again. And he’s so full of pain that he just doesn’t want to be alone right now

 “Rach – I’m sorry, I'm so sorry. I do love you”

And he thinks – _I really do care for you, but things with us just don’t seem right. Is this what love is supposed to feel like? isn’t there supposed to be electricity. Aren’t we supposed to be making each other stronger?. It doesn’t feel like we’re enough for each other._

But he says “I’m just worried that I'm not enough – that I’m never going to be enough”

“Pea – you’ve always been enough.”

The earnestness in her eyes breaks him. He relents. He allows himself to be led to the car, she drives him home and tucks him into bed. They’ve done this dance before and he allows himself to be nurtured, to be loved, not knowing if he can ever truly love her the way that she needs.

Each time he hurts her, it’s deeper. Each time they fall back together his apologies are thicker, more desperate. He knows he needs to make up for the pain.

A week later he proposes. He says that it’s because he’s ready; he’s had time to think, he loves her...he’s all in.

But part of him knows – he’s run out of ways to apologise.  And being all in, is just a desperate gamble. This is just the next logical step.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

The bachelor party was not Patrick's idea.

A part of him had just wanted this to just slip under the radar. Maybe they could just go to the tiny chapel three towns over and ‘get it out of the way’.

He hates himself for feeling this way. But he doesn’t want an engagement. Maybe he doesn’t even want a wedding. L _et’s just get to the being married part and everything will be OK_. Somehow it feels like a big public farce. He just wants this for Rachel, because it’s what she deserves.

But his mates have been there too – a couch surfing troupe  – always there to catch him whenever the Patrick/Rachel duo had fallen apart. Somehow he feels he owes them this. It's a kind of victory, a release.

So he lets himself be blindfolded and manhandled into a car. He’s mentally calculating the miles to the nearest strip club and how many minutes are left before it’ll all be over when he feels the car shift gear. They’re on the freeway.

“Uh guys I’m loving the surprise factor that’s going on right now, but wherever we’re going I’ll be back before Saturday right?”

There’s snickering from the car and someone is pushing a shot glass against his lips.

Yep, alcohol – that’s definitely the best way to fix this.

Five shots later and he’s laughing along with the group. The music is pumping the guys are all laughing, swapping stories about the bad old days and Patrick feels truly at ease for the first time in months. Until...

The car slows and the engine cuts out. The music stops and suddenly he’s is singing on his own.

 _'I know I took the path that you would never want for me_  
_I gave you hell through all the years_

 _So I, I bet my life, I bet my life_  
_I bet my life for you'_

Laughter erupts from the car. “Beautiful Brewer, Just beautiful."  and then someone is doing their best Poltergeist voice: "We're here!!!!!” More snickering

The car doors open and as he pulls down his blindfold he notices the chill in the air – and the noise. It’s SO loud. His eyes adjust to the lighting and his stomach drops. They’re on a fucking airstrip.

He looks to his best man “...Ethan? What is going on?”

“We’re going to VEGAS BABY!!!!!!”

His stomach roils at the thought.

“Uh guys, this is very thoughtful – but I, I don’t know if that’s the best idea. I mean the wedding is in a week and I just don’t know if my eyebrows will grow back that quickly."

He forces a laugh, smiling to show them that it’s all very funny. But his mind is reeling. This is too much – too much fanfare, too much emotional investment. He can’t ask them to do this.

“Dude, we promised Rach we’d be on our best behaviour. It’s a couple nights, we’ll see some shows, maybe go watch a game. It’ll be great!”

They’re all nodding their agreement and they’re buzzing – they can’t wait to take their friend for his last hurrah. 

His last hurrah... Patrick's jaw clenches and his hands start to fist at his sides

Ethan, sensing his anxiety, sidles up to him. He thinks he’s being subtle and conspiratorial. But he’s drunk, and it comes out in one long, loud, whisky soaked plea. “C’mon man – you need to blow off some steam! I happen to know that there’s some very cool shows on, and the bar at the hotel has an open mic on Thursdays”. 

Patrick glares at him. But he’s already caving. He has to admit it does sound good. So, he waits an extra beat, just to show that he won't be taken that easily. But then he gives in and joins the chorus. “VEGAS BABY!”  
The entourage cheers.

And then they’re all storming the steps up to the charter flight. It’s a favour from somebody’s cousin or something, he’s not really listening to the explanation. Just excited to be putting space between him and all the wedding noise. Maybe this will be good for him after all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading - hope you had fun.  
> Kudos is love  
> Feedback is Growth  
> xox


	3. Chapter 3

He’d played along with all the pranks, drank all the drinks and sang all the songs, even laughing along at what was a truly awful burlesque show. But it was all too much for Patrick. Too loud, too busy, too many lights, too many people. No _air_ … he couldn’t breathe…

They were crowded around a roulette table, shoulder to shoulder jostling each other to see the tiny white ball bounce around the wheel.

“Ethan!” Patrick has to shout above the messy din of slot machines, people cheering and the world’s worst cover band “ETHAN!”

“Mhmm?" He has prime position over the table, staring intently at the wheel – willing it to land on the magic number.

“I need to get some air alright? Just need to get out for a sec.”

“Uhuh, sure”! Ethan looks up briefly to give him a conspiratorial wink. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

“NO MORE BETS,” the croupier’s voice booms above the noise and suddenly the table is quiet with anticipation.

As he walks away he thinks he hears the ball clatter and stutter before stopping

“NUMBER 4 – BLACK EVENS”

A cheer goes up from the table and Ethan is whooping and dancing on the spot. At least _they’re_ having fun.

***

He just needs some air, or some space, or something. Just needs to not be reminded every five minutes why he's here. The finality of it all is making him nauseous.

He starts to wander around the casino, following corridors to rooms that seem to have the least amount of people, the least noise. The casino is enormous, and it isn’t long before he’s thoroughly lost. He rounds a corner into a hall that finishes with heavy wooden doors.

Dead end.

At least it’s quiet here. There are bollards with red velvet rope and a silver plaque that tells him he’s arrived at the “ROSE HIGH ROLLERS ROOM – Invitation Only”

Just as he’s about to retrace his steps he notices that one side of the door is open a crack…

 I bet it’s _really_ nice in there.

Probably quiet too. Curiosity getting the better of him he slips under the rope and pushes against the heavy timber.

The room is deserted and very quiet. He jumps as the door swings shut behind him pitching the room into darkness save for some soft strip lighting on the floor. As his eyes adjust, he takes in the details of the room – it’s breathtaking. A large chandelier hangs just above an antique timber poker table set with leather stools. There’s a small wet bar to one side with an impressive top shelf display and the back wall of the room is lined with dark green leather spectator booths.

Perfect. He’ll just hang out here until someone kicks him out.

He starts to walk towards the back of the room when he sees _him_. He’s sitting in the centre booth with his back against the wall and his knees pulled up to his chest. He’s dressed all in black blending perfectly into the darkness. Now he’s staring at Patrick with one eyebrow cocked.

“Uh excuse me, can I help you?”

There’s a petulance to his tone, but he almost looks like he’s on the verge of smiling. And he just keeps staring at Patrick. His eyes are such a dark brown, in the soft light, they look almost black.

A little rattled, all Patrick can manage is “Uh. Hi, I was lost” … His eyes are so dark. 

The man unfolds himself and slips out of the booth. He leans over and presses a panel on the wall and the room is suddenly glowing with warm light from the chandelier. Now Patrick can see him clearly, and his heart skips a beat. He's never seen anyone quite like this before. He stands a few inches taller than Patrick, with coiffed dark hair and a perfect 5 o’clock shadow. The all black ensemble is a loose soft sweater, over tight black jeans finishing in high top black sneakers. His eyes are a deep chocolate brown, but in the light, he can also see that they’re red rimmed and there’s a sadness to them. It doesn’t distract from how striking he is though, and Patrick is taking it all in when he realises that the man is now walking towards him.

The smile starts to creep further into the man’s expression and he crosses his arms ready to challenge the intruder. “Oh, Lost? OK, so now I found you, do you need an adult? Do you want me to call someone for you? Your mother maybe...?”

Oh good, now he’s being teased by a stranger, because of course this night could get worse. “No no, I’m all good,” and without knowing why he adds, “What about you, did you get separated from the rest of your coven?” 

This gets a smile. A real smile this time, it’s beautiful and Patrick finds his eyes drawn  to his mouth.

“Uh no, but that’s so sweet of you to ask.”

Patrick takes a step back “Hi , look I’m sorry, the door was unlocked and I just needed some space.”

The stranger’s face pulls into a grimace “Unlocked…Really?” Patrick nods. “Fuck… Ok, In my defence it’s a very heavy door, and the lock is kind of sticky. So, not trying to break in then?”

Patrick shakes his head emphatically “No, definitely not – though now I’ve seen the wet bar, I could see why someone would want to.”

The man looks toward the bar, then back to Patrick. “An excellent suggestion. What can I get you to drink, Lost Boy?”

“Patrick.”

He tilts his head toward Patrick, feigning confusion. “I don’t think we have that…?”  
  
Patrick smiles at the joke and is treated to another smile in return as the man gestures to himself. “David.” He moves to the bar running his eyes over the labels. "So, Patrick, what do you want?”

The question hits him in the gut.  “I don’t know.”

David raises an eyebrow. “I don't suppose you know how to make a polar bear shot?"

Patrick’s blank stare answers the question for him.

David chuckles and pulls a bottle down from the top shelf. He proffers it to Patrick “Whisky?”

Patrick nods, and for the moment the wedding is the last thing from his mind. He finds himself smiling as he says, “Sounds perfect.” And surprises himself when he realises he really means it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading - hope you had fun.  
> Kudos is love  
> Feedback is Growth  
> xox


	4. Chapter 4

Patrick takes a slow sip of the whisky and sighs before sliding into the middle booth opposite David.

“How is it?” David is watching him intently.

“It’s good, thank you. I needed that”

“Rough day?”

“Well, I’m hiding in an empty room in the back of one of the best casinos in the country so...”

David laughs “It’s like you’ve gone to Disneyland and refuse to go on any of the rides.”

Patrick smirks and he thinks about the past few days. How hard his friends had tried to get him to have fun. The bars, the karaoke, the shows, the noise… “Oh I went on the rides. I think I just had too many corn-dogs and churros and now it’s making me ill.”

When David doesn’t react, Patrick wonders for a second if he’s stretched the metaphor too far. “That was a joke, David. Because..."

“Oh I know! Mhm, very funny.  I’m just thinking about corn-dogs.” His face looks wistful, then creases into a cheeky grin “Could you eat? I could eat. Let’s get food?”

“Oh I dunno David, I don’t think I wanna go back out there, just yet.” His heart sinks a little. “But hey, don’t let me stop you. You go right ahead.” Because maybe he wanted to be alone, but being alone with David suddenly seems so much nicer.

David smiles. “Not what I meant. We’ll get something brought up. Why would I want to be out there,” he chides, flicking his hand in the direction of the door, “with that hoi polloi, when I can have dinner with a directionally challenged burglar?”

Patrick feels his skin go warm and then panics. “Will they do that? Isn’t this a private room?”

David cocks his head, he seems puzzled. But says slowly; “Yes. That is literally the point of a private room.” And then he’s excited again “What do you feel like?”

Patrick tenses.

But David is on a roll and doesn’t stop to wait for an answer before he’s tapping away at his phone, a smile playing on his lips. He puts his phone down with a flourish. “That’ll only be a few minutes”

“What did you get?”

“Delicious things – a wide variety of cuisine from across the globe.”

There’s something about the way his eyes shine when he says it.

“You got corn-dogs, didn’t you?”

“Yes, yes I did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading - hope you had fun.  
> Kudos is love  
> Feedback is Growth  
> xox


	5. Chapter 5

The conversation has looped back to Disneyland and they’re swapping stories about their various visits. David is animated and engaging, using his whole body to tell the story. Patrick is captivated. He’s never met anyone like David and he lets himself get swept into the details of David’s last horror visit. 

“...and I was stuck in there for like 2 hours before they found me …”

There’s a soft knock on the door.

“Mr. Rose?”

“Yes, we’re in here.”

“Are you dece…

“YES! Yes, come in.” 

The door is pushed open and two waiters with a fully laden service cart make their way inside. They’re slow and hesitant, casting furtive glances around the room, and Patrick can see them relax when they take in the scene.

“Thank you, you can just leave that there…” David dismisses them with a wave of his hand and turns back to Patrick, closing out the story, “…to this day whenever I hear ‘It’s a small world’ I break out in hives.”

Patrick can’t help but chuckle.

“Will that be all Mr. Rose?”

 “Yuhuh, thank you so much.” A thought occurs to him and he wheels on the waiters with a hopeful grin “...unless _you_ know how to make a polar bear shot?”

The waiters turn to each other, slightly panicked..

David rolls his eyes dramatically and shoos them away: “Ugh. It’s fine – you can go.” They hurry out and Patrick thinks he hears them laughing as they leave.

David stands and moves towards the cart. He starts to lift the cloches from the food and the room suddenly smells delicious. Patrick’s stomach growls and he realises that he hasn’t really eaten properly since they got on the plane.

The details nagging at Patrick finally fall into place - “Mr. Rose?” he asks, smiling slyly. David pauses from his foraging and looks over his shoulder at Patrick.

“Mhmm, yeah.”

“As in, the ‘Rose High Roller Room’ Mr. Rose? As in, your name is on the door Mr. Rose? Do you own this room?”

David gives a resigned sigh and slides back into the booth, the plates of food he was carrying landing on the table with a clatter. When he speaks, it’s dismissive, like he’s glossing over some minor detail, willing it not to be important.

“Technically, it’s my Dad’s name on the door. And we don’t really own the room. My Dad got into a high stakes poker game that he was not ready for. Then ah, accused the other player of cheating when he lost. Which, huh, was not well received. So, he paid for all of this to apologise.  I mean, we’re not allowed within 50 yards of Penn Gillette but still…My Dad holds tournaments here sometimes, there’s one tomorrow actually. But mostly nobody uses it. I think they think it’s bad luck or something.”

David’s body language has changed, he’s uncomfortable and nervous, almost embarrassed and he’s practically grinding his teeth, waiting for Patrick’s reaction to this new information, ready for the dynamic to shift. Patrick watches him, letting the words soak in.  


Patrick smiles and when he speaks next, it’s careful and considered – making sure to show David that nothing has changed. “It’s a shame no one uses it, David. It’s a beautiful room”

David looks at Patrick, a little abashed, and Patrick sees the tension drop from his shoulders.

David breathes out “Thank you, I’m pretty proud of it.”

“You’re welcome. I thought you said it was your dad’s?”

“It is – but I designed it.”

“You did all this?”

“Yep – yes, that’s, that’s what I do”

“Stunning.” He smiles gently. “And for the record, I don’t think the room is bad luck.” He sees a blush start to creep up David’s neck. “Are you going to eat those?” And he secretly congratulates himself for the look of sheer horror he gets as he snatches up a handful of french fries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading - hope you had fun.  
> Kudos is love  
> Feedback is Growth  
> xox


	6. Chapter 6

They have been chatting happily for what feels like no time at all but is likely hours, about nothing really. How delicious the food is (Patrick declares it to be the ‘best corn-dog ever’), David’s curating work and how the chandelier was won in a vicious bidding war with Perez Hilton.

David had reluctantly explained further about his family.

“Oh, you’re _those_ Roses, you know I worked at a Rose Video when I was in high school?”

“My condolences…”

They’d found the sound panel and David had put his phone to good use filling the space with soft music.

The conversation is so natural and easy. Exchanging barbs and laughing. David is fantastic company and Patrick has completely lost track of time, his head resting against the soft leather of the booth. It just feels right. It’s the most relaxed he’s felt in … he can’t remember how long.

“So, tell me Patrick – what brings you to this stunning soiree?” David tilts his head indicating the empty room.

_Ah, there we go, back to reality._ Patrick hesitates; he knew this was coming. What was he prepared to say here, he’s so conflicted, he’s not even sure what he’s feeling right now.   He settles on, “I just needed some space from the noise you know, it was just way too loud out there.”

David nods, but the smirk on his face tells Patrick he’s not buying it. And now his big brown eyes are fixed on Patrick’s. Looking straight through him as though he’s trying to read the truth right from his face.

“But now that I’m here, I’m wondering how much of that chandelier I can smuggle out under my shirt without you noticing. He grins and makes a show of sipping his whisky, giving him an excuse to take his eyes away from David’s.

David laughs and gives him a playful push. “Ha, not a lot under a shirt that tight, also – Ouch! “

“Um. So, what about you David? Have you abandoned a super model somewhere to hide here in the dark?”

“Ugh, Hardly!” David scoffs, but Patrick sees him tense, knows he isn’t too far off the mark. He’s grateful that the focus is away from him and he raises his eyebrows, challenging David.

David smiles, but it’s brittle and forced. “I was supposed to be having dinner with this poker player from tomorrow’s tournament... But it turns out he’s got a thing for a sweaty Magic Mike dancer, so...”

He looks away and waves his hand nonchalantly as though it’s nothing. But to Patrick he looks as though he’s shooing the hurt away, willing it out of his space. 

Patrick feels his skin go hot and realises he’s angry at this mystery poker player. Who would do that? This guy is amazing, how could anyone desert him? His hand twitches and he’s fighting an urge to comfort him, to reach out and lay his hand on top of David’s.

“You’re not into Magic Mike?” he jokes, trying to take the heat out of the moment

David’s face softens, and his mischievous smirk is back. “God no! Have you seen how many lonely housewives have had their hands all over that. Eww!”

At David’s melodramatic shudder, Patrick laughs. Talking with David is so easy.

The dark moment now defused, they sit in a comfortable silence, just watching each other.

Patrick shifts in in seat. David’s honesty had been important, he owes him the truth.

"it’s my bachelor party...”

“Some party!” David quips, but the expression on Patrick’s face quickly dissolves the humour. 

David’s dark eyebrows shoot up and he fixes his eyes on Patrick, “Mhm, okay… “

“And… I’m not sure that I want to get married.”

David refills their glasses, and now he’s chewing the inside of his lip, but he’s not saying anything, just letting Patrick vent.

“So, I just needed to get away from it. And just, get my head together, work out what I want.” 

David’s lip curls up into a half smile. “And how’s that working out for you?”

The words tumbled out “Is it all a pipe dream, David? Am I expecting too much? Maybe this is what it’s supposed to feel like. I mean, I care for her, I really do. But I just, I always thought that love would feel bigger, more important somehow. Lightning bolt, you know? With Rach it’s just… routine. And it always feels like hard work, and no matter how hard I try. It never seems to feel… right.”

“Have you told _her_ all this?”

“I’ve tried – but I can’t stand to see her hurt. It just feels like it’s easier to just...  to do this … than to put her through all that pain.’

“That sounds _very_ dark. She loves you right? 

“Yes...”

“So, do you really think she wants you to be this miserable?” 

“But what if I’m wrong, David? My whole life I’ve only ever been with a handful of other girls and Rachel. I’ve never had the lightning bolt. What if I never do? What if I break her heart chasing something that doesn’t exist?”

“Wow… And are you sure you want her to be happy?” Patrick nods. Of course he does  “Well I can’t speak for Rachel, but I can’t imagine she’s living her bliss by being with someone who’s only staying because it’s slightly better than being alone.”

Patrick’s stomach twists. He wants to retaliate, to defend himself, but he knows that David is right, and he lets his head fall into his hands. He feels David’s hand rest on his shoulder. He’s been holding back, trying to keep it together, and the tears start slowly, but soon he is sobbing – the years of anguish finally pouring out of him.


	7. Chapter 7

There’s still tears, but at least he can breathe now. Patrick looks up. David is still quietly watching. His eyes full of care and concern: “Better?”

Patrick nods, sniffling a little. He’s drained. But he has to admit, he does feel better. Lighter somehow. He knows what he has to do.

“Yeah, you’re right.  I need to, I need to end it. For good this time. She deserves someone who can really love her” Then a thought occurs to him “God, I’m going to have to tell the guys, party’s over.”

David cringes. “Yeah, Maybe wait until you get home before you tell them? No point spoiling their fun. Wait, do you think any of them would need consoling afterward? No, never mind”

Patrick reaches for his phone and David puts his hand over the top of his before Patrick can even see the screen.

“And while I’ve been dealt pretty bad news via text, you may also want to wait until you can see her, before you tell Rachel.”

“So, a nice cowardly voicemail is out of the question?”

David smiles and squeezes Patrick’s hand. “You’re going to be ok. It is definitely going to suck, but you’ll get through it.”

Patrick shudders at the thought of all the conversations he’s going to need to have. But that’s for later. Right now, despite the seriousness of the moment, he’s happy, relieved. The hard work can wait. and he just wants to be laughing with David again.

David gives his hand another squeeze “So, what now?”

“Well, I feel bad that I killed the vibe, so we could pretend just for the moment that I didn’t disintegrate into a puddle and that none of that just happened and go back to having a nice evening? “

“Ok, first – I’m still having a nice evening. And second, you don’t need to feel bad about what happened. Granted, I’m not great with genuine human emotion. But that was very brave, and honest, and I don’t get a lot of honesty in my, in my life. So, thank you for that.”

“Thank you, David.”

“But if you’re really determined to create some amnesia we can always get wasted and sing karaoke?”

“I love that idea.”

David, his right hand still resting on Patrick’s, picks up the whisky bottle with his left and lets out a disappointed huff “Um, I don’t want to rub salt in your wounded evening, but that’s the last of the whisky. I wonder what other fun things are in that cabinet?”

Patrick shrugs. “Well, If I’m allowed to have my phone back, I have an idea.”

David looks at him, confused, and Patrick nods to indicate their linked hands. David wears four wide silver rings, and the cool of the metal on Patrick’s skin is a stark contrast to the heat that is slowly spreading up his arm.  

David blushes and pulls both his hands back into his lap, nervously twisting at the rings.

Patrick chuckles as he slides out of the booth and scrolling through his phone, wanders slowly to the bar. David watches on, chewing his bottom lip thoughtfully as Patrick rifles through the bar. Pulling out a few bottles, inspecting the labels and consulting his phone. Satisfied with his finds, he pours a few slugs from the bottles into a cocktail shaker and makes a show of shaking it above his head. This gets a smile from David. “What are you doing? “

“Trust me, you’re going to love it.”

Then he saunters back to the booth, dropping the shaker and two glasses on the table with a, “Ta-da!”

David eyes the shaker suspiciously “Um… ok, I’m loving the effort here, but I’m allergic to Rohypnol, so…”

Patrick rolls his eyes. “It’s technically not a shot, because I thought this would be slightly more dignified, but it has all the makings of a true Polar Bear.” 

David’s eyes light up. “Are you serious!? “

Patrick gestures to his phone “Google to the rescue!”

He pours out the drinks and watches as David snatches up the glass with two hands, a silly grin playing on his face. He brings the glass up and inhales deeply before downing half of it in one go. “Oh, there she is! YUM!”

Patrick sips at his own glass, his face contorting as the peppermint hits his tongue.

David smirks “You don’t like it?”

Patrick shakes his head, trying not to laugh. “It’s like eating a candy bar just after I’ve brushed my teeth.”

“Exactly!” David looks almost giddy “This is really nice Patrick, um, very thoughtful, thank you”

“My pleasure...Now, you said something about karaoke?”

 


	8. Chapter 8

David is on his second Polar Bear, getting the shaker to himself, with Patrick opting instead to drink a new-found bottle of bourbon rather than the sticky chocolate/peppermint concoction.

Their makeshift karaoke set up (energetically singing along to YouTube videos) is going well – David has monopolised the playlist, but Patrick is content just to watch. David throws his whole body into the performance. He’s not a bad singer, and what he lacks in vocal control he makes up for in enthusiasm.

“Truly wonderful David – I don’t think I’ve ever heard Mariah done quite like that.”

“Thank you, thank you.”

“What’s next on the set list? Fantasy? Honey?’

David laughs, and not for the first time tonight Patrick can’t help but think how remarkable he is. His dark eyes sparkle, he’s flushed and there’s beads of sweat along his brow “Ok we’re going to talk about how you know her catalogue so well, but right now I think I need to take a small break to rehydrate and possibly look at a costume change.” Turning his back to Patrick, David grabs the hem of his sweater, lifting it over his head, bringing the bottom of his t-shirt up with it. Feeling guilty, but unable to look away, Patrick takes it all in, the sight of David’s bare arms and smooth strong back, leaving him more than a little flustered and confused. David adjusts his shirt, oblivious to Patrick’s stare and carefully folds the sweater, laying it on the booth. His black t-shirt is tight and outlines David’s body perfectly.

Turning back to Patrick, he passes over the phone with what’s becoming his signature half smile as he heads toward the bar.

“I think I’ll hand over to my support act.”

“Well that’s very gracious of you.”

Patrick scrolls through the videos, realising that he’s skipping over the easy fun numbers, looking for something perfect. He can’t put his finger on why – but he really wants to impress David.

He’d been in love with music for as long as he could remember. He’d picked up the guitar very early and sang at every opportunity. The catharsis of pouring out his heart through his songs, getting him through every fight, breakup and inevitable reconciliation.

This song had to be perfect.

Then he sees it. It’s ambitious, but it’s the perfect blend of sickly sweet and epic ballad with just enough snark to make David laugh.

The opening chords ring out and David spins on the spot so fast he almost loses his balance.

His hands fly up to his face “Oh my god, no! I will pay you actual money to sing anything but this!”

Patrick smiles and locks eyes with David before launching into it.

 

_Every night in my dreams_  
_I see you, I feel you_  
 _That is how I know you go on…_

 

Patrick is tipsy, but he manages the range with ease, finishing the number in an extra cheesy ‘I’m king of the world’ pose.

David hasn’t moved from his spot by the bar. His eyes are fixed and he’s just staring at Patrick.

“David? Are you ok?”

David shrugs it off, giving a full body shudder, bringing himself back into the moment. “Ok, still fucking hate that song, but that did not suck.”

“So sweet.”

“Sing me something else – something real.”

“C’mon, what could be realer than Kate & Leo?”

David’s scowls at him “No – nope.”

The banter is effortless, and he realises, he’s not just teasing him. He’s flirting. He’s flirting with a man. And David is flirting right back.

Oh shit. And suddenly all the pieces fall into place, the little glances, the feeling of David’s hand on his. Oh Shit …Ok. Distraction, need a song, need time to think. Anything.

Patrick scrolls through hurriedly, feeling his face go hot, praying that the revelation isn’t stamped across his forehead. _DON’T STOP BELIEVING_ \- yep, that’ll do. Big range, fun song – nice distraction.

“Ok Ok. Oh. I know, it’s not Mariah, but I really love this song.”

David smiles, leaning against the bar he makes a show of giving Patrick his full attention and gestures for him to go ahead 

 Patrick breathes in, ready to blow David’s socks off – when David’s phone pings in Patrick’s hand. NEW MESSAGE.

“Uh, David. Someone named “Jason” wants to know if ‘you up?’

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***the kissing you've been waiting for ;)

“Ugh what!?” David is storming across the room, his eyes suddenly steely. He snatches the phone from Patrick and throws himself into the booth. “That asshole!” David is texting furiously - the rhythmic pinging of his phone telling Patrick that “Jason” was not giving up.

“Is this the guy that blew you off tonight?”

David freezes and looks up at Patrick, smirking.

“Stood you up – the guy that stood you up tonight!”

David  sneers. “Yes, apparently Magic Mike, doesn’t do encores.” 

He drains his glass, slamming it down on the table. He shifts in the booth and brings his knees up to his chest. Mirroring the defensive position he’d been in when Patrick found him.

Patrick slides in next to him, pouring them both another drink.

“So, he’s realised the error of his ways and wants to make it up to you?”

“Something like that”

“Gonna go out on a limb here and guess that this isn’t the first time he’s pulled something like this?”

David doesn’t respond, just sinks further into his protective ball

“Screw that guy, David.”

“That was the plan – yeah.”

_Ugh._ “So, are you gonna go?”

David shrugs “No. No. Definitely not. Right? Ugh, what a dick. I think actually liked him too.”

David is hurting. This time Patrick doesn’t resist, and he slides his arm around David’s shoulder to comfort him. Willing himself not to think about how warm David’s skin is, or how good he smells  so good, what is that, sandalwood? Patchouli? Focus, Brewer.

“Yeah, but it seems like he doesn’t like you the way you need him to. You deserve to be someone’s priority – not just their back up plan. “

“Thank you – that is a really lovely thing to say.”

“Well, it’s the truth – so maybe it’s time to tell ’Jason’ to lose your number and you can wow me with some more Mariah.”

David gives a sad chuckle, rolling his phone around in his hands

“David?

“Mmm?

“You’re going to be ok. It is definitely going to suck, but you’ll get through it.”

This gets a better reaction, David turns to face him, and the half smile is back.

“OK. You do not get to use my own advice against me!”

“It was very good advice” Patrick feels David relax against his arm. “So, Mariah?”

He reaches over with his free hand and gently takes the phone from David’s. As their fingers brush, Patrick’s arm impulsively tightens around David’s shoulders.

And now David is staring at him.

Say something.

“Cedar!”

David does a double take “What?”

“Uh, your cologne – it smells like cedar. It’s nice”

David smiles, then frowns like he’s considering something. And then he’s closing the gap between them. His hand coming up to cup Patrick’s face, fingers sliding into his hair. The cool metal of his rings sending a shiver down Patrick’s spine. Time stops.

The kiss is slow and soft. And when David pulls away, Patrick feels lost, dizzy. His skin is vibrating, his heart is pounding and all he wants is for David’s mouth to be back on his. 

David is staring at him again, chewing his lip. “I, uh – That just felt like the right thing to do in the moment… Patrick?”

“Yeah, sorry, I just… I’ve never done that before, with a guy.

“Oh – ok.” 

“Yeah. Wow.”

“Good wow?”  David furrows his brow nervously.

“Yeah – oh yeah – definitely…. Wow.”

“I was just worried I’d misread… we were having such a good time, and...”

“No, no, you’re all good. I mean. Wow.” 

“Ok Patrick, I’m gonna need you to utilise a little more of the English language here, because my anxiety is not doing well with ‘Wow’.

How can he tell David, that it feels like his first time...Explain to him how overwhelming and amazing this all is? And he knows that words aren’t enough here. He tightens his grip around David’s shoulder, snaking his other arm around his waist, pulling him even closer, and this time Patrick is in control. He leans forward breathing David in, trying to burn the scent of cedar and sweet peppermint into his memory. He brushes his lips gently against David’s, exploring, feeling the drag of David’s stubble against his cheek. And then he falls into it, slow rolling kisses, lost in the moment until he can barely breathe. When he finally pulls away, he’s shaking.

David is staring again, this time he looks incredulous, and very flushed, then a smile slowly creeps onto his face “Oh...”

“Yeah. So."

 “So.”

“David, it’s a lot to process. And I have so much shit to deal with back home. But tonight might be one of the best nights of my life. And I’m definitely going to want to see you again. So, I’m going to need you to give me your phone number.” 

Patrick reluctantly untangles himself from David and grabs his phone.12 Missed calls, 17 New Messages.

Oh shit.

He shows David the screen

“Ouch”

“Yeah. Um. My friends are likely extremely ticked at me right now. So, I think I’m going to have to go face the music. Can we talk tomorrow?”

David nods. Patrick passes David his phone, who taps briefly on the screen before handing it back.

He stares at the number and then back at David. He can’t help himself, tapping out a quick message to his newest contact. He smiles when he hears the now familiar ping of David’s phone. David scowls as he sees the message _JUST CHECKING_.

Patrick winks – “And now, you have my number.”

David cocks his head and smiles.

Wow. 

Patrick slides out of the booth, taking a final glance around the room “I told you this room wasn’t bad luck. Good night, David.”

“Good night, Patrick.”

Patrick pushes open the heavy wooden doors back into the casino. He was not looking forward to what was next, but he was ready.

****

**Patrick:** Hi

**David:** Hi

                                              You talk to her?

**Patrick** : Yeah, Train wreck, as predicted.

                                    **David:** What’d you tell her?

**Patrick:** Enough. That this time was the last. It hurt. But she’ll be ok.

**David:**  What about you, You ok?

**Patrick:** I will be

             The boys were pissed too, the whole thing is pretty shitty

             just gonna try and lie low for a bit

             was actually thinking about getting out of town for a little while you know

             give everyone their space.

**David:** Well you can always crash here…

**Patrick:** Really?

                                     **David:** I’ll get Mariah ready.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading - hope you had fun.  
> Kudos is love  
> Feedback is Growth  
> xox


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